


Death Casts Long Shadows

by Failed_to_Deanon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Horror, Minor Violence, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Sibling Rivalry, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 05:49:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21266069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Failed_to_Deanon/pseuds/Failed_to_Deanon
Summary: The Coronation of a king brings about more than memories of the past.





	Death Casts Long Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> First, I'd like to thank Ramzes for giving me the encouragement to post this and for giving this a look see.
> 
> In honor of Halloween, I hope you all enjoy.

He wakes early. The light flooding the room hurts his grey eyes.

A beautiful day. Dragging himself through his morning ablutions he thinks it is obscene yet fitting.

The sky is cloudless and his father, King Rhaegar First of His Name, is dead. There had not been since he died. There should be some. He may be the only one who feels that way. After all, a day with a cloudless sky is a good day for a coronation. A good omen.

No matter how much a good omen such things are, time seemed to pass slowly since his father died. Rhaegar Targaryen had that effect on people, his mother declared. She said he had this way of drawing attention and keeping the attentions of fools like her who remembered little else until already trapped in his snare.

She had been correct in a way. His father had loomed large, as both as a man and a King. But, now he was gone. Still, the shadows that clung to his father like a too-tight cloak had remained.

He stares at himself in a mirror. He takes a breath and splashes his face with water. His father’s shadows only grew.

Shadows, he calls them, but, they had not only been that. They had been of flesh and bone and had become dust before he was brought to King’s Landing. And today, Coronation day, it’s not only the denizens of King’s Landing and visiting nobles that spring forward, howling to be acknowledged.

It should have been Aegon’s coronation.

Aegon should have been here, alive, and a man grown a year older than he, himself, was, preparing to don a crown. Rhaenys had been older. She should be here, too, wedded and a mother to her own children, perhaps. She would have been happy to see Aegon crowned.

Not that he ever met them or knew what they should have been like. Both had been dead before he was brought to King’s Landing. Dead, he muses, when he means killed. Some people mention Kinslaying even less, but, why shy away from the truth? His father certainly hadn’t and the shadows outlived his father.

The shadows their deaths caused will probably outlive him, too.

Though his father could share his children with his wife, Queen Elia, his father could never bring himself to share them with him. He could tell himself his father did not speak about them much to him because his father was not a man for sharing. It would not be the entire truth. He was the one child his father had protected, the one he hadn’t abandoned to Grandfather Aerys’ hatred. His father’s guilt would not allow it.

There was no point in speaking to his mother about them. She never saw them and his father shared them with her less than he had with him.

There were a handful of others he could have asked about them. Grandmother Rhaella might have had something to tell him about his brother or sister had she lived longer than 3 years after giving birth to his aunt. He knew she had been a kind woman, and he heard hushed tales of her youth and her marriage. He barely remembers her, let alone anything she said to him.

Half the Kingsguard who knew his brother or sister had died before he’d been born. The ones that lived either hadn’t been on Dragonstone to know his brother or sister or had been and were too buried in their own guilt to give him the information he sought.

Uncle Viserys, much more open than his father ever was, took pity on him once or twice. He had a handful of stories about Rhaenys and that cat, Balerion, in his childhood only seemed to like two people: his uncle, Viserys, and Rhaenys’ mother.

Now the cat thrived in the care of his uncle’s children, though it welcomed his Aunt Daenerys when she visited King’s Landing. But, with everyone else? That the cat scratched his father proved how much he was hated. His mother had been confused when he mentioned Balerion’s existence. Like a great many other things, they never spoke of the cat after he explained who it once belonged to. With him? It never bit or hissed at him; it never came close. He never voiced his suspicions about why not.

He knows more about that cat than he does his sister. Still, not much was better than nothing.

He begged his uncle for stories about Aegon too. Uncle reluctantly told him about the time Aegon was presented to court and a few times he had seen him in the nursery or in Grandmother Rhaella’s rooms.

That had not been enough. He said as much and for once, his uncle’s frustration exploded. After their mother’s household was called to King’s Landing from Dragonstone, Grandfather Aerys forbade his seeing Aegon and Rhaenys more than allowing it. Aegon had been a baby who could barely toddle and gurgle half-words when his father dragged Rhaenys and Aegon from Elia’s hands, thrust her in a Black Cell, and killed his niece and nephew. “There was nothing else to tell”, Uncle Viserys declared at the time, before leaving him to search for Renly Baratheon.

The moment his uncle invoked the name of his father’s other ward, he knew that his uncle would no longer entertain more questions about Aegon or even Rhaenys.

He never pressed anyone else after that. There was little else he could do besides make demands of his father’s wife. No one, would have welcomed that sort of bravery, especially his father.

Despite of knowing little about them, perhaps because of it, their shadows were always there. Not so much Rhaenys because he knew some things, and well, she had a been girl. They might have not shared too much even if she had lived because of that. Aegon, though, he should have shared a life with. The trouble was that he did, just not in the way that brothers ought to have.

What would Aegon have been like? There is nothing to know about Aegon except everything that Aegon never got to do and never would.

Aegon was the elder. Aegon would have been taught to read first. Would he have been better in sums? In histories? Would he have recognized sigils more easily? Would he have a keener interest in intrigues in court? Would it have come easier to Aegon who bears grudges with who and who is allied with who? Would Aegon have been a better student than he was? Would have the Maester’s who taught him liked Aegon better?

Aegon never grew to an age to ride a horse, to swim, or cross swords in the training yard with. Would have Aegon taken to a bow & arrow, a sword, a lance, a mace, a Warhammer, a spear like his disgruntled uncle? If they favored the same weapons would Aegon have handled them better? Would his stance have been perfect? Would he have been stronger? Faster? Better in all the weapons arts? He No one could say, and yet, he just knew Aegon was in the thoughts of all those who watched and trained him.

He was the one doing and alive. Yet, he could see the questions in all their eyes. What would it have been like if Aegon had lived? Would anyone even watch him, had Aegon been there to be watched?

Aegon used to have Father’s looks and a mother who shared his father’s faith and interests, whereas he had neither of those things.

Life is the only thing he had that Aegon did not.

True, Uncle Viserys always about, but, his uncle was older and he had friends his own age, some whose parents willingly shunted them to King’s Landing; others hostages for their parent’s behavior. That Viserys hadn’t desired much of his father’s attention more than what his father had been willing to give him helped. Most importantly, Viserys wasn’t his father’s first son, the dead son so full of promise that was snatched away because his father hadn’t protected Aegon like he protected him.

That was why his father had not wanted to share his other children with him.

He’d seen the miniature portraits of Aegon’s and Rhaenys’ his father kept in a locket he always wore about his neck once. His father offered to show him that one time, the only time. He asked his mother if he had seen inside the locket. She told him that his father would remove it before coming near her. He never mentioned the locket again. Except a few instances, his father even stopped going near his mother long before he became old enough to know the circumstances which drove them apart._  
_

When he and his father were alone, as comfortable as their meeting had been, often there would be moment when his father would look at him and his eyes would cloud over. His father would grow even more quiet and he’d run a hand across that pendant. Then, the air in the room would choke him like it had his brother and sister under his grandfather’s fires.

His father had been a good one to him, all things considered. There for a word of encouragement on the training yard or in his solar, but, Rhaegar Targaryen was not a man prone to smiling and gave him few. But, when it came to the memory of Rhaenys and Aegon, his father gave him less.

Perhaps because of it, when Father used to come to his lessons he wondered if it was Aegon’s lessons he would have preferred witnessing, when they would sup together, he would wonder if his father wished it was Aegon at the table instead of him.

His father told him he was proud of him and he loved him. Not often, because his father was never the most demonstrative of men, but, enough. Still, he cannot help questioning if his father would have loved him if Aegon had been there. Would he have preferred Aegon entirely? If Aegon had lived would his father have spent the same amount of time with him? Even if he did not believe it and in most moments, he does not, he knows nothing would have been the same.

He never asked his father such things. He feared the answer and now that his father was dead, sent to the pyre, pendant and all, it was too late.

And, of course, Aegon’s shadow slides into his room. He knows that Aegon died as a baby, yet, in times like these, more often now than he was a child, he sees Aegon as a man grown.

Today, the day that should have been Aegon’s coronation, he can see his brother as he should have been. Taller than him, because, of course, he would be taller. Aegon had taken after their father, while he took after his mother and the Stark blood in him never allowed him height. He sees now broad shoulders and silver hair, just like their father’s. But, the eyes are all wrong. Aegon’s eyes had to be indigo. They should like their father’s had been.

The closer this Aegon gets, the more his eyes look black; empty and dead. But, Aegon’s face is alive in the way Aegon’s can never be.

Aegon is so close now. He’s smiling, but, it’s a mocking smile.

He is a fool, he thinks. The dead should not have a smile. Today should have been a day for Aegon, but, it wasn’t. Of course, Aegon’s ghost would mock him today.

Aegon is dead but that does not stop the weight of Aegon’s limbs slide up his body until white hands rest upon his neck. It does not stop rapture from growing on Aegon’s face as the grip on his neck tightens. Aegon’s face is but a hair breath’s away. Aegon’s voice is sickly sweet. “Good morning, little Brother.”

“Good morning, Aegon”. Though he should not, he always answers Aegon when he calls. It is the least he can do for the dead.

And just like that Aegon smiles, his teeth, white and sharp. “Today is an important day. You’re not supposed to be hiding in your room. It would not do to be late. You kept me waiting long enough.”

He wonders what Aegon had been waiting for. He knows Aegon can hear his thoughts, but, this time, his brother does not answer his unspoken thought. Instead Aegon says, “I’m your older brother. You are supposed to listen to me, aren’t you? We are brother’s, aren’t we?”

A tighter press. Aegon demands an answer. Aegon is his older brother, so he obeys. “Yes, we are.”

Then Aegon’s face hardens as does the grip on his neck. He can only force out shallow pants. “But, you weren’t a very good brother. You took my father, you got to spend time with my mother. You took my life. Now, I am going to fix it.”

Aegon lets out an inhuman scream and squeezes harder until all he can see is black.

* * *

A knock startles him.

He shudders, and gulps air.

He is still in his bed. He turns. The sun still shines. The sky is cloudless. Still, he shivers. He will never be warm enough.

Another knock. The sound pushed the shadows away. Away, but, not gone. Aegon waves from where he leans against a wall. Never gone. Aegon gestures to the door. His smile is still a mocking one, but, the edges are gone. “Get the door.”

He rushes to obey his older brother. He clutches at anything to focus on besides Aegon following behind him.

“You are going to be late,” His aunt says, as she hugs him once he opens the door. 

“It is early yet, Aunt Daenerys.”

She rolls her eyes. Aunt she is though he is her elder. It was amusing when they were children, it amuses him now. It never amused her.

She lets it go; pity for the fatherless boy, perhaps. She’d been fatherless too, but, her father hadn’t been one to mourn and she grew up in the household of a very different king. She asks, “How are you?”

His father is dead, and he is haunted by his dead brother, but, he’s alive and his mother will get to hug him and later he will sleep on a soft bed, his belly full of the finest food and wine.

Aegon quips, “You could be just as dead as me”.

Daenerys tries to engage him again. “It cannot be easy today. I mean, with brother dead.”

Aegon’s shadow slides closer again, pressed against his back. He is alive. Aegon is dead. He doesn’t get to complain. Aegon rolls his eyes, “Give her answer, Little Brother.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Daenerys smiles sadly, as if she knew what he felt. They were too young when his grandmother passed, but she did lose her brother too. It was not the same loss, he thought. His father could have been a father to her yet even when his Grandmother passed, he left his sister’s upbringing to his wife.

He wondered at it at times. If they were nearly of an age why did was not his father more interested in his sister? He would ask her the odd question about her own lessons or her plans, but, otherwise there was little Father had spoken to his aunt about. However, no one else seemed to think it too strange to leave a girl’s education to women. Even his mother had laughed at him. “Perhaps if my mother lived long enough to teach me things girls are taught, perhaps I would not have disdained them so. But, I did. Maybe if she lived, I still would have. Still, it’s better not to grow to be the sort of fool that I was.”

Even when his father spoke of Daenerys’ marriage, there was only the declaration of it being a fine match. Daenerys accepted without much fuss. Princesses married, that is what they did. Princesses who lived long enough to wed, anyway.

Still, he learned another bitter truth. Though it is Aegon who haunts him most, Rhaenys was his father’s eldest, the one he spent more time with before the realm split itself in two. His father couldn’t snatch back from death the daughter he loved, so he wanted no daughter at all.

Aegon laughs in his ears. “Oh, Brother, Rhaenys would have been father’s favorite even now”. Knowing that doesn’t help anything. It does not spare him from Aegon.

Aegon laughs again, this time, it is colder than the ice of the North that Robb writes to him about.

He breathes and looks once more to Daenerys who replies, “Well enough. Truthfully, I’ve been up since before dawn.”

“Really?”

Daenerys, nod. “I probably should go soon. We both should.”

“Is that why you are here? To come get me?” It was not as though he could skip the Coronation. He was always going to go. He had to. It’s what father would have wanted.

He tries to ignore the heat of Aegon’s stare.

“Mostly”, she says, laughing. She shakes her head. “I am hiding out. I forgot what royal preparations were like. This is bigger than what I am used to.”

He laughs softly. “Tyrells do anything small?”

Daenerys joins him in laughter. When she came of age, Daenerys wed Willas Tyrell, their reward for aid in the war was a royal marriage. By all accounts it is a happy union. Though he does not know Willas well, his brother Garlan had been a squire to his father. Ser Garlan and Uncle Viserys maintained their friendships though they were both grown, and Ser Garlan had only the most glowing of praise for his elder brother.

From the whispers at court he knew the Tyrells had hoped for a different match between their two families, but, Olenna Tyrell, for once had the ill fortune of offending both the king and queen. That she had done so when Arianne Martell had been a grown enough to bear children for his father’s established heir when Margaery was still a child neatened the matter. Still, the Tyrell’s had been allies and so Daenerys was sent to thrive in Highgarden.

He nods absently before asking after Daenerys’ husband. “How is Willas?”

Daenerys smiles. “Doing very well. Out with his uncle. You remember Lord Baelor Hightower? Willas squired for him, if you remember.”

He knows Baelor Hightower, a well-liked man who become a widower two years past. Baelor Hightower had been a favorite nephew of the White Bull & friend to the Queen. He is what Arianne used to say about Garlan in whispers: “A good sort for a Reacher”.

“So, what were you doing?”

“I was the Sept along with the Queen.”

“How is she?”

Queen Elia has gone into mourning for his father, but, if he cannot stop thinking about what should have been Aegon’s Coronation, no doubt she is thinking the same. Aegon snorts.

“Arianne is fine, in her element,” Daenerys, says, cheering up slightly as she brushes at her rose-colored gown.

With a jolt, he remembers Princess Arianne, as he had been introduced to her when she had been sent to King’s Landing, to attend to her royal aunt and to learn the things women usually do from their women-kin, is now actually _the_ queen.

And that means that his father’s wife is no longer queen. The Queen Dowager, certainly, but, not_ the Queen Mother_.

Aegon whispers, “She should have been”. It is not quite an accusation. It is not, however, a lie.

And today she must look on as someone not her son becomes king.

Because of that thought, he almost misses Daenerys’ next words. “She was busy and the High Septon had instructions he wanted to go over and the ballroom needs last minute fixes, but, it’s lucky her cousins are here. I am not needed as much.”

Arianne’s cousins, and his brother and sister’s; not his cousins. “The Sand Snakes are helping?”

He wonders idly how that is working out. Only one or two were said to be lady-like and half are too young to handle matters of importance. Of course, he would not truly know. Oberyn Martell’s daughters, particularly the elder ones were the subject of much gossip, but they adored their father. Mostly he was thankful they stayed away from him.

Just like their father. Oberyn Martell is a sharp man with sharp manners and a clear dislike of his father which stemmed from that Tourney where his parents met that no one else seems to recall fondly. His exposure to the queen’s brother is more limited than his to the queen. That his father gave him the name Targaryen when the man’s own children are Sands did not endear his father to the younger of the Martell princes.

Daenerys huffs. “Nym is in the ballroom. Tyene is in the Sept. Ellaria’s are watching Baelor, Daeron, and Alysanne.”

So, the youngest four are watching Viserys’ children. “That leaves two unaccounted for.”

Daenerys gives him an exasperated look. “They aren’t going to hurt you, you know. Neither is their father.” The last she adds, somewhat dubiously.

He had not said anything to the man since his arrival. He doubted his father’s death would lift either of them in the Prince Oberyn’s estimation. While Prince Oberyn was never vitriolic to him as he had been to his father, when for one of Viserys’ name days Oberyn Martell arranged for a Spear Master to be sent to King’s Landing to teach him, he learned to never expect a Name Day gift from the Queen’s brother. Getting a gift would have worried him and, probably, everyone else.

“Where is he anyway?”

She rolls her eyes. “With Elia. She’s at the Sept.”

He breaths easier, but, not by much. Queen Elia had gone to the Sept nearly every day. In his youth, to pray for the souls of his brother and sister; since the death of his father, his too. Of course, she would be there. Still, if Queen Elia can go to the Sept on any given day, for her to be absent now would speak volumes. She would be there, as a matter of pride due to her position. She was afforded that.

Aegon huffs disdainfully, “You sound like your mother.”

Of course, Aegon would have heard his mother talking to him about his father’s wife.

Spitefully, he thinks, “At least I get to speak to my own.”

Aegon gives him a wounded look. He hears Aegon’s whisper: “That is because Father kept you safe from Grandfather.” Aegon’s body flickers.

At that, the fight leaks out of him. “It was not my fault, Aegon.”

“I did not say it was.” No one says it. No one needs to. Life pays for life. Too many lives paid for his.

“You think it is.” He thinks, “I did not ask for you to die”.

Aegon laughs. The sound is sourer than week old milk. “When my mother cannot speak to a pile of ash, am I supposed to be grateful?”

“I was a child.”

Aegon’s eyes are black again. “So was I. But, you got to grow up.”

He blinks seeing Daenerys’ hand in his face. “Where did you go?”

He considers lying, but, he was never good at that. Still, he could not tell he everything. “Today should have been Aegon’s coronation.”

She gives him a pitying look. “But, it isn’t.”

“No, it isn’t.”

She tries to smile reassuringly. “We can at least hope that he would be at peace.”

A fool’s hope, perhaps. Aegon would want to be alive and they both know it. Aegon smirks.

He wants to be left alone…he’s rarely alone.

Thankfully, she takes the hint and rises. “Well, don’t be late. Arianne won’t forgive you.”

That brings something of a smile to his face. No, Arianne of House Martell will not.

They say their goodbyes for now and he is always happy to see his aunt.

Still, his feet feel like clay when he tries to go towards the wardrobe containing the tunic, embroidered doublet, and sturdy breeches that make up his some of dress for today. He lays them out.

“Your clothes are nice”, he hears a whisper. It’s Aegon again. This time, Aegon leans over his shoulder. “I wonder what mine would have looked like.”

“I do as well, Aegon.” He cannot stop thinking about it.

Aegon feels cold now. “I don’t suppose it matters, though. It’s not my coronation, is it?”

With that Aegon fades away again, leaving him alone.

Only, he knows it won’t last. It never does.

* * *

The Great Sept of Baelor is a magnificent building. Welcoming to all, it does not feel that welcoming to him today. It should be, he has no thoughts to do ill. While he does not go to the Great Sept of Baelor very often, he goes regularly. While the Faith of the Seven is the faith of his father, his mother keeps the faith of her people. He goes because the son of a king cannot keep away from the Sept. His presence anywhere already causes whispers without trying to cause them.

Still, he does not like coming to the Sept. This is where the ashes of his brother and sister are, where his father lay in-state before his ashes, too, were interred to rest beside theirs. He had not wanted to go when they had his father’s body lie in-state. He does not want to be here now.

That does not change he has to be here. Coronations have taken place at the Sept since his ancestors took up the Faith. That alone forces him up the grand stairs and through the main doors. If his father’s widow can go to the Sept to see someone not her own son become king, he can’t avoid the Sept, either. Not today.

High on the dais he sees Uncle Viserys, and Princ-_Queen_ Arianne conversing with the High Septon.

Princess Mellario, Arianne’s mother, a rare sight in Westeros, let alone King’s Landing, is here as well, fussing over Arianne’s gown. She came into the city only a fortnight ago with the rest of the Martells. He does not know her well. But, of the Martell’s people, she would probably be the politest one of bunch, after Arianne. Then again, perhaps not. She, too, comes from noble stock, Essosi as it is. Even if he does bare his father’s name, he knows what women of that ilk think of him. Even his Uncle Eddard’s wife, _former wife_, since Uncle joined the Night’s Watch and severed his marriage, only spoke to him a handful of times though she and cousin Robb spent the first ten years of Robb’s life in King’s Landing.

Robb, now Lord of Winterfell in his own right, came down for the coronation bringing his mother and news of his betrothal to Alys Karstark. He was surprised at that. Robb had only laughed, though there was something dark in the sound.

“Mother had hoped me to marry one of Manderly’s girl’s, but, it was ultimately decided against.”

“Oh?”

Robb smiles grimly. “Aye. The dowry for any is surely to be larger and they follow the Seven, but, that would not work. I need to marry a woman who keeps the Old Gods, Mother accepts this. I might be a Stark but even growing up under the tutelage of Ser Ethan, I grew up in the South and a Mormont would not suit a lady of Winterfell when I have the Tully coloring. Alys has the Stark blood in her veins and a bit of the looks that I need, not for me, but, any children we might have. Uncle Benjen agrees it is a good match.”

What Robb’s father, Uncle Eddard, who he himself never met, and who was forced into the Night’s Watch due to fighting an army at the side of Robert Baratheon by his father, might have thought was not spoken of.

For now, though Robb was somewhere with his Tully uncle, Edmure, and Ser Brynden, who once Edmure came of age, joined the Kingsguard. He will probably see them later. Naturally all three men would be here for this day. Edmure, a few years older than his Uncle Viserys and who came from Riverrun with his pretty Frey wife, had been squire to his father. Uncle had taken Edmure and Renly into the city for a drink or so a few days ago, “for old time sake” more than once. Quentyn Martell had joined them a time or two. “Didn’t now Quent had it in him,” Arianne said, proudly while Cletus Yronwood grinned and Quentyn’s wife, Margaery Tyrell rolled her eyes.

He had not gone. Uncle knew not to let Renly anywhere near him and Edmure’s father, like Robb’s had also been sent to the Wall after the war by his father. And while Quentyn and Cletus were amiable sorts, they weren’t the type to go and pick fights with the elder of Quentyn’s cousins, not for him, anyway.

But, none of that mattered. It’s no greater hardship than the task of going over to speak to his father’s widow.

He had not been lying when he thought that her being here was a matter of pride. Once when they thought he was out of their hearing, his father said to his mother his wife was quite dutiful. The note of gratitude in his father’s voice had only enraged his mother and it had been some time before his father called on his mother again.

Today, she looks as well as can be expected for a recent widow. Though his father’s wife favored warmer colors, on formal occasions such as this she dressed in Targaryen black and red. She is smiling as she brushes her hand across his uncle’s doublet, no doubt straightening some imaginary crease, much to the amused pleasure of his uncle who soaks up the motherly attention.

Thankfully, he does not have to approach her just yet. Her younger brother, Prince Oberyn, dressed in his house colors, stands next to her. Though he is thankful the man is without a spear in his hands and is engaged in conversation with a vaguely familiar-looking Septa, he would rather not intrude. Prince Doran, he heard from mutterings of a lady of Arianne’s will be arriving within the next few minutes. He could at least talk to him without fearing for his life.

There is one other person who is not here; his mother. She was supposed to be here for the coronation. She should be here. He turns to look for her. He does not see her. Ser Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard, though, he does see.

He does not want to talk to Ser Jaime. He is amiable enough, but, Ser Jaime is not his favorite member of the Kingsguard.

Not his mother's either, because she does not like having attendants about her and the Kingsguard least of all. Once he thought it strange, but that mystery was solved long ago. Still, the man might know something. “Have you seen my mother, Ser?”

Ser Jaime frowns. “I have not.” The Kingsguard looks about and shrugs. “It’s still early. She will be here later, no doubt.”

“You are certain?”

For his question, he gets a look of disbelief. “You know good and well your uncle and Arianne had gone to her manse to invite her personally.”

He does know that and he almost says it, but, he’d rather not waste his breath.

“Ser Jaime?”

The knight bows low. “My queen.”

He too gives her a short bow. She nods politely before speaking to Ser Jaime first. “Ser, your sister and good-brother are hoping for a word with you.”

The knight smirks. “Are they now?”

The Queen laughs. “I am not nearly as important to seek out regularly, but, for you they did. It does not mean they told me what they wish your presence for.”

“Your Grace, should I feel honored or worried?”

She makes a shooing gesture. “I would be honored if you gave me less reasons to be worried and just went to attend your kinsmen.”

They smile at one another. Grinning, the knight gives her another bow and leaves him alone with his father’s widow without so much as a backward glance. She is smiling as she shakes her head at the knight’s retreating back. He does not understand the joke.

He barely has time to think that before she turns to him. “Have you broken your fast?”

They are not often in company together and have little reason to be. She isn’t his mother and never acted like she was. Still, she was always unfailingly polite and gracious when his father demanded them both at the table to sup or some formal affair that required his presence. 

“I have, have you?”

At those rare times, when his father would engage him about lessons or whatnot, she would ask questions of him, particularly if she had done the same with Viserys, Daenerys, or anyone else who joined them at the table. Such things pleased his father, of course, but, where his father’s wife was, his mother rarely was. Today, as with the day of his father’s funeral, they would be together.

“Yes, before dawn. Are you feeling well?”

“Quite, my queen. And, you?”

A heavy silence settles before she says, “As well as expected, I suppose.”

Before another silence fills the space, he remarks, “It is a lovely day.”

She smiles a bit. They have been around each other enough to know that he dislikes this sort of talk. Yet, they are both trapped. “Yes, it is. King’s Landing is nicer in the spring, isn’t it?”

“Yes, my queen.”

Then her face shows concern. “You looked anxious when you were speaking to Ser Jaime. Is anything the matter?”

He remembers his father’s funerary rights. His mother had made one of her few trips to the Sept. Naturally, whispers followed. The queen had not said anything, of course. She never invited speculation on her feelings towards his mother’s presence. It does not mean there was none or that he will admit to asking the knight about his mother.

In truth, he suspects trying to be discreet is foolish. The Queen Dowager will not be caught unaware, and Arianne would never surprise her aunt by forcing Ser Jaime will probably tell the queen himself. Ser Jaime might not be his favorite member of the Kingsguard, but he guarded the queen more often than some of the others that his father favored. But, he cannot worry about that now.

“It is nothing, not truly. It is just coronations…we have them to celebrate a new king; only, to have a new one, the old one had to die. It feels odd.”

The look she gives him shows him she senses the lie of omission. His mother could do the same. Was it something that all mothers did, even the ones who lost their children?

No, that’s not quite right, she mothered his uncle and aunt. She also looked after Arianne and the gaggle of his father’s wards and squires, both the ones sent and brought, most of them had been motherless as well. But, to mention Aegon? No, he will not do that.

And just as he thinks about his brother, there he is. This time his eyes are indigo, smiling at his mother, fondly, in a way that he knows can never truly happen.

Thankfully, he can ignore his brother as the Queen Dowager picks up the thread he wants her to pick up. “And your father was the old king. Of course, it would feel odd.”

He nods, because there is little else for him to say. His brother has his hand across his mouth as if trying to conceal his laughter. He did not know why the shadow bothered; no one else could see or hear him.

Though he tells himself not to look at his brother it is difficult to look back to Queen Elia.

But then he finds himself watching his brother draw close to her; to see him stretch out a hand only for it to pass through her and would much rather face his father’s widow than see the dismay on his brother’s face.

If today is odd for him, it is odd with her, he decides. With his father dead, he did not know how to talk with her. What did they even have in common anymore? Only Uncle Viserys.

He would never force anything more. Once, he had been told, his father had been away, his mother became too sick to care for him as she usually had. Because she never cared to have other ladies attend to her, the Queen arranged for one of his uncle’s former nurses to care for him.

He didn’t know if it was appropriate to thank her for something he didn’t remember, but, Ser Arthur, who confirmed the tale, told him to not let the thought of a queen doing her duty to care for any child under her roof warm him.

The sadness lacing Ser Arthur said it forced him to question how much of that one act was the Queen’s initiative and how much of it was it because the Kingsguard who guarded him as an infant at the expense of his brother and sister believed they were following the king’s wishes by brining his temporary care to her attention. Whatever the intent was, it amounted to nothing more than that. After all, he has known not make demands of her since he became of an age to understand that the king’s wife is does not mean she is the mother to the king’s son.

Now though, he is glad Uncle marched to them.

Her, Uncle greets with a kiss to the cheek. “My dearest sister, Arianne was having other thoughts about seating arrangements.”

The Queen laughs. “Seating arrangements? That is no longer my responsibility.”

His uncle cackles. “Before the Reachmen kill me. Please?”

Uncle looks at her beseechingly, in a pleading look he himself had pierced his mother with many times in his youth. “Of course, dear boy.”

Before she leaves, she takes his uncle’s hand in hers squeezing gently. She smiles at him as she gives his brow a kiss. His uncle blushes, but, says nothing when she brushes back some of his uncle’s silver hair. She does the same for Uncle as his mother does for him, he thinks, before he watches her nod at him and float away to her niece’s side in a slide of black silk.

Uncle bumps his shoulders, though with much less force than he usually might. He nearly snorts; his uncle is clearly minding his clothing. For it, Viserys thumps his shoulder again. “Nephew, good. You are finally here. Where have you’ve been?”

“Why?”

Viserys snorts. “Arianne was close to sending out a search party for you.”

Aegon smiles and comes to stand next to Viserys. Bile threatens to come up. Seeing them side by side, he thinks they look like brothers. Aegon is his brother, but, it’s Viserys…Aegon would have looked like Viserys had he grown into a man. He swallows. “Did she need me to do something?”

He did not involve himself in the proceedings. He hadn’t thought he would be needed. To his knowledge he hadn’t been.

His uncle laughs again. “This is a family affair. It wouldn’t be right if you weren’t here.”

Aegon smiles. “He is correct, you know.”

“I was never going to miss it.” He cannot. This is what his father wanted of him. Aegon glances at him, there is a smile playing at his lips.

“I am so happy to hear that,” his uncle says, also smiling. “It’s not every day a man becomes king, but, a king without a family to see it isn’t a king at all. I am very blessed in that regard.”

Aegon’s grin stretches.

Before he can say anything, Uncle Viserys turns to reply to Arianne’s call.

Aegon beams. “It is good to see him happy don’t you think?” his brother asks, though he does not need an answer. Aegon does not need an answer.

Of course, his uncle is happy. Viserys doesn’t have a mother or a father, but, he has a wife who loves him, children who adore him, a kind sister, and his brother’s wife who treats him like a darling, and he had a brother who ensured he would get his proper birthright.

“Why would he not be happy?”

This time, Aegon is the one without an answer. Aegon only smiles wider. “Come, the moment I have both been waiting for is finally here. Brother, I need to watch our uncle become king.”

He says nothing. After all, that is why he was here, too.

* * *

The King is dead. Long live the King.

The High Septon has his back to him when he gently placed crown on his uncle’s head. His father ensured this.

Would Aegon have wanted this?

No, Aegon would have wanted this for himself. He should have gotten it, after all, the eldest son of a true marriage comes before an uncle. But, in the absence of that, was this what Aegon would have wanted?

The High Septon steps to the side to let the congregated see the new King and Queen. Everyone else looks to his smiling uncle or his radiant wife; his is not. The bulk of his attention is not there. He can’t stop staring at the High Septon.

When the High Septon turned to the crowd, the face he wore is not the wizened one he has known for the past few years. It’s Aegon’s face he sees. It’s Aegon’s voice proclaiming their uncle king and it’s Aegon who smiles serenely as Viserys and Arianne smile at one another.

It was as if Aegon believed the world was made right.

* * *

Well into the feast, deep into his second cup of wine, he looks around, still looking for his mother.

His mother is not here. He had not seen her at the ceremony. He looked for her early into the feast, but, he had not seen her either. Not that he looked this way and that her or the Sept. That would have called undo attention to himself and he wouldn’t ruin this day for his uncle. He was sure some had been looking to see her as well.

But, now that the feast is fully underway and the dancing has begun and Viserys and Arianne glide across the ballroom for the tenth song, still surrounded by other joyful dancing couples, even the Queen Dowager and Baelor Hightower, he thinks to slip out. He needs to see his mother.

Was it a good thing that she did not come? As Ser Jaime had said, Viserys and Arianne had invited her. Had she ignored a royal decree? Maybe something was wrong. Had she taken ill? Had she left? Without him?

“Where are you going?”

Aegon again.

“To see my mother.”

“Why do you need to see her now?”

“Can’t I just want to see my mother?”

Aegon scoffs. “You can see her tomorrow.”

“She was supposed to be here. Maybe she has taken ill?” Even in the safety of his own mind, the question doesn’t sound right. His mother was rarely ill.

“She was healthy the last time you saw her.”

He frowns. Was there anything of his that Aegon could not touch?

“Aegon-”

His older brother interrupts. “You truly are your mother’s son aren’t you? And you choose this, our Uncle’s Coronation Feast to prove it? Can you think of no one else but yourself?”

While he might be legitimate now, Viserys was meant to follow his father as king. That was his father’s decree since he had been a baby. His mother knew this as well. His father had made sure of it. And now she was not at the Coronation of the king that his father had chosen.

Who can say what people will think? The trouble is that he knows what they will.

But, him, he’s the son and he knew well his parents once tried to convince the High Septon to uphold their marriage as a true one. He also knew his father relented when the High Septon denied him. His mother had not wanted to admit defeat.

_Lyanna’s cheek burn. “There were others who had more than one wife!” _

_Rhaegar draws a heavy breath. “The Conqueror was slated to marry Visenya only, my lady. And when he married both Visenya and Rhaenys, he did so at the same time. Even then both Visenya and Rhaenys were sisters to each other as well as to him when he married them. He also did so before coming to the Faith. I was born into the faith and neither you and I are brother or sister, nor is Elia one to either of us. And I should not have to explain to you the Faith’s views of the subject.” The way he looks at her, as if he were her father, dispensing with a lesson she does not wish to hear. It only makes her want to strike him._

_“You spoke two different vows under two different circumstances. Your faith is not mine.”_

_Rhaegar sneers. “Ethan Glover’s is. Do you think he would agree with you? He declared in front of the members of my faith that your gods do not allow for a man to take vows when vows were already made. Do you not remember? I do. If you desire subjecting yourself to mockery of your own people once again, my lady, I will not stop you, but, one taste of it was more than enough me.”_

_She pulls close, arms stretched out, as if to grasp at him. “He just meant to anger us, to cheapen what we did. Don’t let him.”_

_“It is not a matter of let. Glover was not wrong. Your gods do not believe a man ought to have more than one wife, no more than mine does. I am no Maegor who lost that tilt even with dragons. Barba Bracken was dismissed from court when her father merely suggested that Aegon the Unworthy would marry her after Nerys died. You wish me to strike up a war with my Faith or your Northmen again? I will not.”_

Aegon tilts his head forward and whispers. “They will think of Blackfyre.” Aegon’s eyes grow black again. “Maybe that is what you wish.”

As much as his uncle loved him, he knew that his uncle had not trusted his father to keep his word. He knows his family’s history.

“I am not Daemon.”

He knows others think it. Daeron and Daemon had been half-brothers and Viserys is his uncle.

Aegon laughs. “No, but, it will not stop people from thinking it. That is what you are afraid of.”

Yes, he is afraid. And he has Aegon to remind him. “I will not do as he did.”

Aegon smirks, “You say that now.”

“I speak truly.”

“Then, why fan the flames and go see her now?”

“No one is watching me.”

Everyone else’s eyes are on the bright, shining King and Queen, with their three delightful, young children. A happy family, a secure dynasty, and smiling faces all around. Just as his father wanted.

_“Viserys must follow me. There is a reason why, my lady, that Stannis Baratheon sits on the seat of Storm’s End and not Mya Stone.”_

_Her face purples. “Oh, so you would through her back at me?”_

_“My lady, there is a reason that brothers follow when there are no legitimate issue. Even if I was to disregard that a legitimate brother comes before a natural born son, even if there is a great council called, as much as it pains me, Viserys would win over our son. He is the elder of the two and his legitimacy cannot be challenged. Most of all, if Viserys is on the throne there will be no grumbling from any part of the realm.”_

_“He’s the mad king’s son!”_

_“So am I, my lady! And because of it I must do better. And being a better king means I must abide by the laws of gods and men. My actions already caused me to lose two of my children, I will not allow the gods the chance to take the one I have left because you wish that continue to mock them their will.” _

_She sneered. “Why now? Where did your bravery go?” _

_“It was not bravery, my lady, it was folly. And the realm suffered because I failed to abide by the laws of gods and men.”_

_Frustrated, she spits, “You mean your first children suffered.”_

_Rhaegar nods. “Yes, them, most of all, because I put my wants above my duty.”_

_Weary now, she demands, “Since when is depriving my son of his rights as your heir is your duty?”_

_“My son, yes, my heir, no. My lady, you were never mine to honor with vows of marriage and no issue from our union can change that. Viserys must take the throne after me. The laws of succession are clear.”_

_“A son comes before brother in every line succession.” _

_“Sons of legitimate issue, which, my lady, you and I both know he is not.”_

_“Our son is legitimate!”_

_“My lady, the union was illicit, under your gods and mine. You must accept that.”_

_“We took honest vows!”_

_“No matter how honest they were, I was a man who already spoke vows of marriage and yours were spoken for when we met. There are no grounds to uphold them.” _

_ "Our vows were not groundless. You made your vows to me in front of a Weirwood. You have done that nowhere else.”_

_He shakes his head. “I should have never made vows to you anywhere. I deluded myself into thinking I had the right to marry you!”_

_“That is what this is about, isn’t it? Your guilt? Stop punishing yourself for your guilt. You did not kill them. You weren’t here!”_

_His father sneered. “Yes, I was not here where I was needed. For my hubris, the Gods meted their punishment.”_

_Indignant, she retorts, “And my son is to suffer because of it!”_

_His brow scrunches. “Suffer? What does he suffer? He has a father who gives him all that I do. I gave him my name. Do people not bow to him? Call him, “My Prince”? He dresses in clothes that cost more than the wages given to the woman who makes it! His horse eats better than the man who saddles it! This is the only thing I cannot give him.”_

_“Cannot or will not!”_

_“Both. Either. Whichever you like.”_

“Is that so, Little Brother?” Disdainfully, Aegon’s lip’s curl, “No one is watching? And that makes it alright?”

No, it doesn’t but, what is he going to say to the dead? After all, Aegon is always watching.

He pretends not to understand what his brother is asking and rises from the table.

* * *

He slips out and walks down mostly empty corridors. He breathes easier the further away he gets from the ballroom. Drunken revelers pay no attention and the palace guards, used to seeing him traipsing around the Keep, are discreet.

He has done his duty. He was a good son to his father, a good nephew, and a good subject to the realm. Most of all, he’d been a good brother, he had not taken what was meant for Aegon.

And it’s only when he reaches the courtyard that he hears his shadow laugh. Of course, Aegon is right. He would never escape.

“Lord Renly.”

Impossibly blue eyes narrow. Jaw visibly clenched, Lord Renly gives him a short bow. The gesture was more of a twitch than anything reverential. Men say that the Lord of Storm’s End, Lord Stannis Baratheon is a hard man. He is one of the few who can say that both living Baratheon men have that in common. Renly has hated both of his parents and him by extension since he was brought to King’s Landing. Like with most of the sons of rebel houses brought to King’s Landing, his father left the care of Renly Baratheon to his wife.

_“Why should I be nice to him?”_

_The Queen puts a hand on Renly’s shoulder. “It is the kind thing to do.”_

_Renly’s chin juts out. “My parents are dead because of that king and my brother.”_

_The Queen sighs and tilts Renly’s head up. “And that has little to do with him.”_

_Still mulish, Renly declares: “My parents would be alive if they were not looking for a wife for the king. I saw them die. He killed my brother too. Why should I play with his son?”_

_The queen brushes Renly’s curls back. “What happened to Lord Steffon and Lady Cassana was a horrible accident. I know it will not bring you peace, but, no one could have known what would happen, child. As to Lord Robert, war is ugly business. Unfortunately, that is all there to it. Mine own uncle died in the war and many of my people and my children quickly after. Still, to punish him is not fair for the actions of others.”_

_“Then why am I paying for the actions of his father and mother?”_

_The Queen plants a kiss to Lord Renly’s forehead. “Oh, child. If you do not want to play with him, no one will force you, after all you are hardly of an age. Child, you must be kind. I have become too fond of you to let yourself make unnecessary trouble for yourself and for your kin who already miss your presence.” _

“My Prince,” Lord Renly returns in a practiced voice that betrays none of the ambivalence the Stormlander still has for him. “I thought you would be at the feast?”

Left unsaid was the: “You should be at the feast honoring your uncle, the rightful king”.

Most would be shocked that such clipped words for someone usually voluble and charming. He is not. He has seen Lord Renly smile for his Uncle, his father’s wife, and later Arianne; never for him or his father who was provided due courtesy as king and his jailor and he would not have known what to do if Renly had ever sought out his mother.

He pretends he doesn’t see Aegon smirking. Instead he takes in Baratheon’s attire. Not even an hour ago, at the feast, Lord Renly wore the black and gold of his house, complete with rich fabrics and shiny accoutrements. Now Lord Renly’s clothes were of a simpler style made of sturdier stuff.

“I was,” he finds himself starting instead of “You were there, you saw me.” He finishes, “You have changed clothes?”

“At morning light, I leave for Storm’s End.”

“Already?” He would have thought Lord Renly would stay for more times. He’d seen Lord Renly in the Hall surrounded by a captive audience, smiling and laughing. The man had danced a handful of times.

Lord Renly gives him a sidelong glance. “I remained behind for what I needed to see.”

His father firmly in the grave or to prevent him or his mother from ruining it for his uncle?

_His father declares, “Whatever is in my power, I will give our son, my lady, but, I cannot give him the throne. I will not throw away a hard-won peace just to strike up another preventable war. It’s only now that things are settled.”_

_His mother demands, “Who will fight against you, now?”_

_His father shakes his head. “I would have thought you would welcome that I am not my father who continues to take for granted the liberties afforded to me. The Stormlands and Dorne would jump at the chance, even now to remind me of my failings. My lady, it is because of my promise to have Viserys follow me and that I kept the lordlings whose fathers fought against me here that the realm is safe. I won one war, barely. I will not have another on my hands.”_

Whatever the cause of Lord Renly’s activities, he does not want to linger. He simply ends, “Have a good journey” and walks away.

Away from the hard-hearted lord, Aegon drawls, “That went rather well, wouldn’t you say?”

He does not grace that with a verbal response.

He knows it could always have gone worse.

Always knowing, Aegon snorts.

* * *

His mother’s manse. Grand enough as befitting the mother of a king’s son, but, not so grand as the Red Keep. He spent much of his early childhood here, before it was suggested that he spend more time with boys his age. That such a suggestion coincided with the steady unraveling of the bond once forced by his parents went unremarked upon.

“As did a great number of other things.”

“Is that what you think, Aegon? I heard plenty.”

_“Father, why do you not live with us?”_

_His father beckons him to come near. “The Red Keep is my home, I have always lived there, except when I was a prince and lived on Dragonstone until I became king.”_

_“Why don’t I live there?”_

_His father sighs. “Because your mother lives here. You would not like to stay apart from her, would you?”_

_No, he thinks. That thought is horrible. Why wouldn’t he want to stay with mother? “Why can’t mother live with us, if I live with you?”_

_His father sighs heavily. “Son, your mother and I are not like others.”_

_“Because you are the king?”_

_“Yes, but, not only that.” His father saw that he did not understand. “We are not married, your mother and me.”_

_“Then, can’t you get married?”_

_His father grows sad. “I am already married to the Queen. You have seen her, yes?”_

_“Yes, she is pretty. Sometimes I see her in the gardens.”_

_His father pulls him close and opens up that necklace he wears, the one he is never allowed to touch. “You see, before you were born, the Queen and I had two children. This is them, Rhaenys and Aegon”._

_He points. “He looks like you, Papa.”_

_His father smiles, “Yes, Aegon did.”_

_“Where are they, Papa? I never get to see them. Only Uncle Viserys and Aunt Daenerys and Uncle Viserys’ friends. Do they not live with you?”_

_He feels his father flinch. “They are dead. Your Grandpapa Aerys, my father, was not a nice man. You see, before you were born, I was away- ”_

_“Because the war?”_

_Another flinch. “Before then, but, yes, after the war, your Grandsire put the queen in a Black Cell.” _

_Shocked, he exclaims, “Did she do something bad? Only bad people go in the Black Cells. Don’t they?”_

_His father shakes. “No, child. She never did anything bad. I did.”_

_That confused him. “You, Papa? You never made mistakes.”_

_His father laughs wetly. “I made a very big mistake.” His father trails off and shudders again. “Years ago, before I met your mother, I made promises to the Queen, though she was a Princess of Dorne at the time and I was just the Crown Prince. And I broke them. But, then, the war happened, and your Grandsire kept her, Aegon, and Rhaenys so her people would fight for us even though she was sad that I broke my promises to her. That is how your Grandsire he put her in a Black Cell.”_

_“Why would he do that?”_

_“Because he was still mad at me, and she would have tried to stop him from putting Rhaenys and Aegon in his fires because she loved them so much.”_

_“But, Papa, Kinslaying is bad, everyone says. No one tried to stop him?”_

_His father was trembling. “Ser Jaime tried to stop the Queen from being locked up. He was locked up too.”_

_His eyes grew wide, “There was no one else to protect them?”_

_His father snaps the locket shut. “I was supposed to.”_

_“But, papa why-” _

_“Son, before you were born, before I met your mother even, I promised her in front of our shared gods that I would shield her from all harm, do right by the children we have together, and most of all, I swore that I was hers and only hers until the end of days. She swore the same to me, but, I broke my promises to her because I thought I was above the laws of gods and men that say that I can only live with my wife and the children she gives me. To prove that I was not above their rules, the Gods took your brother and sister from us.”_

_He did not quite understand, but, he thinks he knows what his father meant. “Because it wouldn’t be fair?”_

_“Yes.” _

_“If she was to go away, then can mother and you marry so we can stay with you?”_

_That was the first time he had ever seen his father angry._

He does not have to look to see Aegon’s eyes are that pitiless black again. But, like always, that never stops his brother. “I remember hearing just as much.”

He swallows. “I was a child. I only knew what I heard.”

Aegon snarls. Cold hands on his chin force him to face his older brother. “And here you are to listen to your mother again!”

“I won’t leave my mother like father did.”

Aegon sneers. “Leave her? No, brother, we both know it wasn’t your mother he left.”

“He went back to her, didn’t he? She is his only wife.”

The scorn on Aegon’s face forces him to take a step back, but, there is only so far that he can go because Aegon is pressed so close to him. “And we both know that was not for a lack of trying.”

_“He thought up that nonsense about living with you being possible if I sent Elia away? By himself? A boy his age? Where else would he hear about such things, if not from you?”_

_“Why shouldn’t we live with you? You are his father and I was supposed to be your wife. Don’t you remember?”_

_“Then you should remember why that cannot be.”_

_“Because you refuse to send her away!” _

_“And you know I will not do that!”_

_“Yes, because you loved your High Septon more than me, but, don’t you remember, if she took other vows, then you could be free from the ones she holds over you! If you can send my brother away, why not her?”_

_“Unlike your brother, she is not a traitor to the realm. Her people fought with me, not against me I cannot send her away even if I wanted to.”_

_“Why not? It is not as though you love her.”_

_His face purples. “My lady, even if I did not love her, by what reason could I end the marriage I willingly entered? Nonconsummation? Impossible. Consanguinity? My sire and mother were brother and sister as were my grandsire and grandmother. And you, my lady? Your mother was your grandsire cousin. And as you say, neither she nor I have taken holy orders and do not think me a craven to force her into one. I will not allow already ugly rumors to fester for the sake of your pride.” _

_That she picks upon “What rumors?”_

_He brushes the hair she so loved to thread her hands through. And his eyes, they show a depth of sadness that once, not so far in the past she would have hoped to erase with just her presence. His perfect face, though, is hard and his words are colder still. “There are rumors that my father killed my children for me.”_

_“What?” _

_“It seems I have protected you from the truth for too long.” His face grows colder than the hardest of ice in winter. "People are starting to think that I arranged with my father to kill my children so that I would have reason to set Elia aside. Those ugly rumors only grew when we foolishly went to the High Septon to validate a marriage that should have never been. Members of my own council, men who I fought in battles with, members of my own Kingsguard, even, think that my father and I conspired to kill my children. And Elia-”_

_“Is that why you won’t acknowledge our vows? What are you not telling me?”_

_He shakes his head. “She laughed, Lyanna, and called them the rumor-mongers fools. She stared at me full in the face and said, ‘Without doubt, I know he had no love for you. If your father did, it would have been me sacrificed to the flames, not your children. Aegon, and Rhaenys would be young enough to forget the mother who nearly died to bear them existed. After all you have a ‘new wife’ just waiting to mother them, don’t you? Or perhaps had they lived, you would find some pretense to be rid of me and shunt them to a secret corner of the world to forget them like you forgot your vows to me.'”_

_Lyanna slapped a hand across her mouth. Her face grew as grey as the gown she wore. “She believes it?”_

_Rhaegar steps back. “It is my fault for giving her the means to think it.”_

Aegon’s grip on his shoulder is tight, “Oh, yes, a fine show of pity for the woman they both held in scorn.”

“That is not what it was.”

Aegon snarls. “It was his choice to abandon us and her to think nothing wrong in it because it meant she was the one being abandoned for! And I am supposed to, what? Be grateful to him for coming back to his senses or feel sorry for her because he finally remembered he already had a family? When my mother has nothing left of my sister and I except a pile of indistinguishable ashes, is that supposed to soothe my soul?”

Sitting heavily in his mother’s receiving room. “You cannot blame them for that! How were they supposed to know? And if you have to blame someone, blame father, but, why my mother?”

Aegon scoffs. “I can and I will, Little Brother.”

“Why? She was young.”

Aegon snaps. “But, not witless if she was pushing to ruin someone else’s life to benefit herself. Don’t you remember?”

“She had not meant it. She felt Father betrayed her.”

Aegon’s form flickers and the air around him goes cold. “You truly wish to speak to me about betrayal? I am the one who paid for it with my life!”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He had not meant that.

“My darling son.”

Relieved, he tries pushes back all thoughts of Aegon as far as he can. But, Aegon is still there, always watching and this time, he’s roused anger in his brother.

He pulls himself together, taking in his mother’s loving gaze.

“Mother.”

He sinks into her embrace though he is taller than her by inches. He breathes the scent of her in, there is a crispness to it. When they pull a part she gives him a strained smile. “How are you?”

“I am well, and you?”

Then her face goes grey. Knowing, she demands, “Are you here because of the coronation.”

He will not lie to his own mother. “Yes. I am. You promised you would attend.”

She shakes her head. “I thought I could, but, in the end I couldn’t bring myself to do it. No one wanted me there.”

“I wanted you there.”

She huffs. “No, it is better that I did not, for me and for you. It is better this way. No, let Viserys have his moment. That is what your father wanted.”

Aegon scoffs. “Even now, she says it as if the crime our father committed was not parading you both before all and sundry.”

That is not what she meant, he thinks, even ask he asks his mother, “Why say that?”

His mother takes a ragged breath. “No one would deny a woman has the right to be at the funerary ceremony of the man she once loved, especially when she is the mother of his child. A woman, however, does not have the right to attend the coronation of her former lover’s brother.”

“That never stopped her from trying to go where she was never invited.”

He ignores Aegon’s bitter drip of words. He rather consoles his mother. He tries to ignore Aegon’s scoff of “Consoling for what?”

“You are not only that, Mother.”

His mother smiles ruefully. “No, to all assembled I am a constant reminder about the worst times of their lives. And if not that, then I am something to think lowly of.”

“That’s all in the past,” he says, while his brother looks on, glaring. The past has not remained there. No, it pulses even if it does not live.

She smiles sadly. “My sweet boy.” She brushes his hair out of his face. “No, it’s not, not for those still paying the price of my stupidity. I would have gladly gone if it would have made things better, but, I am not that naïve girl anymore. I will not go where I am not welcome.”

“You were invited.”

She nods. “Yes, by Viserys and his Dornish wife. They might have meant to invite me in earnest or they might have thought they would be seen as good in the eyes of those assembled by having me, but, I will not subject myself to scorn unnecessarily when I was never meant to be here.”

“You are meant to be with me.”

His mother smiles. “I learned when you were very young the only thing your father and I had in common was you.”

“Was there nothing else?” Surely there had to be.

“Lust,” Aegon supplies, wroth.

He does not dignify the resentful thought with a response. That was never just lust. It could not be. The price was too high for mere lust.

Aegon’s expression curdles. “Ah, yes, the prophesy that Father just had to enact. The Dragon had three heads and two he had weren’t enough for him, the man who already had everything. Spare me. It was pride, selfishness and greed.”

He is thankful when his mother cuts through Aegon’s voice. “Not for very long. The signs were there from the very beginning, but, I chose to ignore it until I could not. King’s Landing was never not my place.”

“Then, why didn’t you leave?”

His mother gives him a sad laugh. “What makes you think your father would let me take you with me? Even if I could leave with or without you, where would I go?”

“Winterfell?”

“I did not know it at the time, but, the moment I took off with your father Winterfell was closed to me. Ethan Glover made sure of that. First, by telling them how your uncle Brandon came to King’s Landing and my father after him, and then, by explaining how I violated the will of my gods and kin.”

_“We should have never taken vows, let alone call ourselves husband and wife. I was wedded and a father and you were betrothed.”_

_“And I did not want the betrothal. You and I knew this.”_

_“That did not give me the right to violate your father’s charge of you.”_

_“I was not with my father when we thought to marry.”_

_“You were with your brother, who could speak to as to your father’s consent. Many witnesses could state your father’s consent was not with me.”_

_“I consented!” She lost everything because she had, but, she cannot lie to herself._

_“I was wrong to think that would be enough.”_

_“So was I.”_

She ends, “I couldn’t demand to go back to Winterfell even if it took me back. And it will not.”

“I can ask Robb-”

His mother shakes her head. “My sweet boy, I made Benjen a conspirator. I cost Winterfell my father and two of my brothers. Robb is Catelyn’s son and I cost her a betrothed and a husband. Him, I cost a father. Winterfell will not accept me, even after this time.” His mother gives him a small smile and a pat of the hand. “And I have you. That’s enough.”

He loves his mother, he thinks, as he takes his leave. He is fortunate to have her.

“Yes, you are quite fortunate aren’t you?”

“What would you have me do, Aegon? Rant, rave? How long would you have me curse my mother and our father? And to what end?”

Once more, Aegon’s eyes grow black. “Oh, yes, it must be quite inconvenient having such a comfortable life such as yours, or any life at all.”

“That is not what I meant and you know it.”

Aegon sneers and once more he feels cold hands against his neck. “Well, I suppose it is a good thing, I have an eternity for you to let me know exactly what you meant.”

The last thing he sees before his vision goes completely dark is the shadow of his brother’s smirking face. "I should be happy to have you join me for it."


End file.
